Lovely and Amazing
by Jaded
Summary: Angela and Brennan meet for lunch and talk about the men in their lives without really talking about the men.


**Lovely and Amazing**

Angela was just dipping her spoon into her coffee—because it was lunch, because she was having a meal with her best friend, and because she had been at the club way too late last night, so extra caffeine was warranted—when Brennan, lifting a glass of water to her own lips, says, before taking a sip, like it was nothing, like it was just Tuesday and it was something she normally said during the second day of the work week: "I've come to the conclusion that I find monogamy quite an attractive quality in a man. Sexy, even."

"Sweetie?" The word comes out a little too loud, a little too surprisd, like she's been pinched. Angela doesn't hide her stare, and thinks that it was a blessing that she hadn't been actually drinking the coffee at the moment, though Brennan could afford the dry cleaning—since it would be her fault if she had Sumatra dark roast expressed all over her blouse.

"I know that perhaps in the past I did not seek out this trait in a potential sexual partner, but lately, for myself, I've decided that while humans are not monogamous by nature, the will power that individuals can assert when they put their mind to being faithful to another—it intrigues me. I find this kind of loyalty and determination to be a desirable quality in a potential mate. To go contrary to one's nature to prove devotion and love to another? I think that qualities like that are what separate humans from other animals. We have to choose monogamy if that is what we want. I don't know why I never connected it before, but it's partly what attracts me to anthropology, these struggles of a people and civilizations to conform to certain ideals that are--"

Angela gapes; waves her hands in front of her face, bracelets a-jangle. "Brennan, whoa!

"Horse."

"What? Brennan—please tell me you are not talking about Hacker. Please tell me you are talking in general and when I mean talking in general I mean talking about Booth without actually talking about Booth in that way you do all the time." She doesn't add, "Because you looooovvve him."

"I don't know what you mean, Angela."

"Now you're just being purposefully vague." Angela wags her finger, as if to say, _I'm having none of this, girlfriend_. "Also, since when do you believe in monogamy? I thought you were the one who said that relationships were ephemeral? Monogamy is _not_ ephemeral."

Brennan shrugs. She pushes her fork under a napkin. "I've reconsidered my stance. I think polyamory works for many people, but this is perhaps rooted in a value system I once possessed and have now advanced beyond. I did once believe that relationships were non-permanent arrangements, but so did you. Things—people, can change."

Angela hears the past tense, and the words ring in her ears. In this moment she knows that she's thinking about someone who is not Wendall and is Hodgins. She also realizes that her best friend maybe knows her better than she knows herself—that Temperance Brennan knows where Angela Montenegro might be going before she herself does. And she thinks, _visa versa._ In that case, they're both guilty of the same crime.

"Sweetie, I think whatever you're onto? Go with it. I think it's lovely. I think it's amazing. And when you're ready for it, you'll be ready for it.

Brennan looks at her, all blue eyes and inquisition, as if to say, _I wasn't speaking in specifics, but rather, in a general sense of how I have adjusted my beliefs as the years have progressed_, but on the table her cell phone vibrates and dances across the tablecloth, and of course, it's Booth, it's always Booth, and the smile on Brennan's face is far too far away and dreamy, the glow is too bright to mean that the person on the other end to her is _just_ a work colleague, _just_ a friend.

"Why don't you take that," Angela says, just as there's a tap on the glass that makes them both jump in their seats. And there, just outside, is Booth, knocking on the window of the Royal Diner, grinning and not at all hiding what Angela has secretly been calling his "schoompy" face. His striped red and pink tie sways in the breeze.

"You know what, Sweetie? I'm full. I'm gonna head back to the lab. Why don't you continue this conversation with Booth?"

"Why, do you think Booth would be interested?"

"Oh, believe me, Sweetie, he'll—you'll see. He'll be happy to discuss this with you. There are just certain people these conversations are designed for—and this one you just had with me? Consider it a trial run. I'll see you back at the lab."

On her way out, Angela says hello and goodbye to Booth, and when he asks her why the rush, she thinks about _trial runs and curly hair and slime and bugs_, and thinks that maybe today's not the day for that final try—for her or for Brennan—but maybe soon. Maybe today was just lunch, and what they're both waiting for is dinner.

[the end]


End file.
